And then you ride home with a warm engine and a cold back seat, wondering when you’ll see her again. But before you know it you’re riding past your ex girlfriend’s house. She sent you a message on the anniversary of your father’s death, and asked you not to answer in it.
You pull in the clutch and twist the throttle back hard, letting your engine sing at the rev limiter as you ride by. That’s how bikers say hello sometimes.
It’s march break and a group of kids are out. They hear you coming and cheer at the roaring beast. “Mommy look! A Motorcycle!” You slow down and under your scarf a lonely face turns into a bitter sweet “F*** yeah!” smile.
This was your first ride of 2013, sad, sweet, but full of promise for an amazing season to come.
Welcome back to the woman who’s stood by me the longest. My motorcycle.